Up In Flames
by stargazerdown
Summary: "I did say I would burn your heart out, didn't I?" Sherlock makes his final move in the game. Shortish one-shot. Warning: character death.


As Sherlock begins to realize their whereabouts, an unconscious John is ripped from his grasp by the thickset man. Military bearing. Muscular. Green fatigues. It takes a moment for his drugged mind to recognize this new threat, but it finally responds.

_Moran._

And James Moriarty is standing right behind him.

Moran throws John unceremoniously to the ground, and the doctor's head makes an audible _crack _as it hits the cement. Sherlock winces and starts sluggishly in protest, but a heavy black boot slams into his chest, landing him on the floor gasping for breath. His vision blurs, but he can make out Moriarty, freshly clothed in another Armani suit, peeling himself off the back wall. Gracefully? Sleekly? Everything about the consulting criminal is- no, not graceful- smooth? Calculated? His brain struggles to function.

Moran sends another sharp kick to the side of his head, smacking it to the floor. Sherlock lets his lips part for a soft moan. "Not now, Sebastian," Moriarty purrs. Smoothly.

He strides purposefully across the room, the _click _of his heels resonating against the walls of the starkly furnished cell. He stops, and kneels beside Sherlock, who turns his head from the man who drugged them, brought them here. The man who hurt John.

The consulting criminal roughly grabs Sherlock's face. "No, no, Sherlock, that won't do. A pet must face its master, after all." Sherlock tries to fix him with a piercing stare, but the iciness in his blue-grey eyes has been replaced by a soft, drug-induced haze. Moriarty laughs softly, his hold on Sherlock's bruised cheekbones tightening. "Now, I'm sure this is quite clear to you, but I am winning this game of ours, my dear. The think is, I've captured all your pieces. Or rather," -gesturing to John- "_piece._" Sherlock's light eyes widen.

_Don't hurt John again._

Moriarty's nails dig into the soft flesh of Sherlock's pale face.

"So- final round. You see, I have this wonderful new toy, and I'm just _dying _to play with it. Or had you not _observed _it yet, Sherly?"

With the Irishman restricting his movement, Sherlock can only see the thin black wires snaking up the bare walls. He is still able to deduce what looms above his head, waiting to send electric currents like a lightning bolt into his thin body.

_Electrocution._

_Stops the heart._

The consulting criminal laughs humorlessly, more for effect than mirth. "Got it yet? Figured out what I can do to you and your pet? Because that is the choice, you know- you or John Watson. Your move." He releases his hold on Sherlock's face, allowing him to speak.

'Me," the detective immediately rasps. "Not John."

_Never John._

The corners of Moriarty's mouth stretch upward into a wide grin. "So that's it? Your last move?" Sherlock nods.

Moriarty laughs again and sits back on his heels. "Well. I did say I would burn your heart out, didn't I?"

John stirs in the corner, and Sherlock turns his head so he can see the muscles around the doctor's mouth twitch, his fingers uncurl. He prays that this will end quickly.

"Seb?"

Moriarty's voice cuts through his thoughts, cold and chilling. Sherlock thinks he will remember the icy timbre in the Dublin accent until his heart ceases to beat. Which, then again, is an event that might not be too far in the future.

Moran flicks a switch somewhere, and all of a sudden the pain is so great he can make no sound, just squeeze his eyes shut and gasp. Then every nerve in his body catches fire and all he can do is scream and scream, his mouth open, choking on the flames welling up in his throat. He can't see John's tawny eyes fly open, can't hear his cries of "Sherlock!" All he hears is that smooth voice taunting him, mocking him.

"Checkmate."

His world goes black.

* * *

**Please, please let me know what you thought (even if you hated it, I'd like to know what I can fix!)**

**Any questions, too, just ask by way of review or PM.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**I might add a chapter before this explaining how they got there, etc if people show interest. :) Tell me if you'd like that to happen, please.**


End file.
